


One Day

by Willam



Series: (Our love is found) Between the Waking and the Dreaming [4]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Limbo, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Off-screen Relationship(s), Sex off-screen, Temporary Character Death, if dreams count, imagined relationship?, postcard fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willam/pseuds/Willam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all depends on the dream...</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day

_When the day comes My Love will you remember?_

Arthur wasn’t really sure what had happened. One minute he had been breaking into a safe in the mark’s dream and the next minute he was falling. He woke up with a start, yanking the IV out of his hand angrily.

“What the fuck hap--” Arthur heard the clap of the muzzle signature just as Eames connected with his side, knocking him flat onto the floor.

_When the day comes My Love, will I?_

Arthur swung up with his gun drawn, and emptied his clip into the newly awoken mark. He dropped like a stone. Arthur looked at Eames sharply. He hadn’t moved from where he had landed and three bright stains were spreading across his shirt. Arthur crawled to him quickly, pulling him into his lap and trying to apply pressure to the wounds. Arthur could hear himself screaming for help, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man lying against him. Where was Dom?

_Say all the things meant but not promised?_

Eames was choking on the blood now, his hands clenching and unclenching over Arthur’s where he had them pressed on his wounds. Arthur looked down at him helplessly, feeling the tears start to slide down his cheeks. Eames reached up one of his blood soaked hands and rested it against Arthur’s cheek. Arthur leaned into the touch, not caring that it smeared blood down his cheek and neck.

_Tell you of the great depths of my love?_

Eames’ stutter breaths came slower and father apart. Arthur looked up at the door once again. Where the fuck was Dom? Eames’ hand dropped away from Arthur’s face. He grabbed it and held it back up against his cheek.

“No, you can’t die. You fucking moron, why would you do that?!” More of his tears fell on Eames’ face.

“Love….you….”Eames mumbled softly.

“I love you too. “ Arthur sobbed. He heard Dom call his name and looked up sharply just as he felt the pain of the bodyguard’s bullet blossom in his chest.

_One day, My Darling, Death with come knocking_

Arthur woke with a start, shooting up in bed. Eames looked up at him sleepily, rolling over to nuzzle Arthur’s naked ribs. Arthur looked around, confused. He was in the apartment he shared Eames in France, overlooking part of the Seine . Eames was kissing his neck as Arthur continued to look around.

“What’s the matter Darling? Did you have a bad dream?”

Arthur finally turned to stare at his lover. Eames raised his eyebrows and Arthur seized him roughly. He kissed Eames hard, framing his face with his hands and holding him firmly. Eames looked at him with puzzlement in his eyes.

“Darling?” Eames asked softly, causing Arthur to sob slightly.

_But you need not fear the Great Light_

Arthur rested his head on Eames’ chest. Eames carded a gentle hand through his hair.

“I had a dream where you died, and you didn’t know that I loved you” A few tears leaked out of Arthur’s eyes, dripping onto Eames’ chest.

“It’s alright Darling,” Eames murmured softly into Arthur’s hair. “I’m here.”

Arthur looked up at his lover and suddenly his eyes widened. He pushed Eames away from him and jumped off the bed, backing away from it towards the open veranda doors.

_For I’ll hold your hand in the darkness_

“Arthur what’s wrong?” asked Eames, rubbing the spot on his chest where Arthur had shoved him.

Arthur was standing in the door way now, his back pressed against the jam. He looked at his lover on the bed with tears in his eyes.

“I don’t remember how I got here,” Arthur said softly, almost whimpering.

Eames stood and came around the bed slowly, his arms raised, as he might approach a cornered animal.

“What are you talking about Arthur? We came from the airport Darling.”

Arthur reached out his hand to where his die was resting on the top of the bedside table. He held it in front of him, the late afternoon sunlight making it almost glow in his hand. He raised his eye to Eames, now standing in front of him, then looked back at the totem in his hand. Turning, he threw it as hard as he could at the water outside their window.

“Arthur!” exclaimed Eames, following the die out onto the veranda in time to see it land in the water. He turned back to his lover, astonished.

“I’ll get a new one later,” promised Arthur, pulling Eames back to the bed. He still looked a little sad, but Eames was quick to put a smile on his face.

_And stay here with you all through the night_

The beeping coming from the machines made the hair on Dom’s arms stand on end. He looked at his friend laying there in the bed and had to fight back tears.

“What are the odds?” he asked the doctor standing at his side.

The doctor looked at him helplessly. “The first bullet didn’t do much damage; his collarbone pretty much deflected it. The one that hit him in the head was a small caliber, a blessing in this case as it didn’t do much damage either. How far and where it went in are both problems though. He might wake up tonight or next week or never.” He regarded Dom sadly. “I wish I could tell you it would be alright, but until he wakes up I won’t even know how much, if any, brain damage there is.”

Dom looked back at Arthur, lying in his hospital bed hooked up to all his machines. His suit was in a plastic bag from the hospital draped across the back of Dom’s chair, not all of the blood stains on it Arthur’s. Occasionally, the electrodes attached to Arthur’s temples transferred a beep and a spike onto the monitor next to his bed.

“What’s that?” Dom pointed at the monitor.

“Minor brain activity,” shrugged the doctor. “Probably a dream. Hope it’s a good one.”

Dom chuckled a little to himself. The doctor checked Arthur’s charts and went out. Dom reached out and took his friend’s hand, hoping that he woke up soon.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem in Italics is _In Memoriam ___written by me for Embur (August 1920-August 2011)


End file.
